


Sex, drugs and radio host

by DecentMud



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Confusing Relationship, Drug Use, M/M, Prostitution, Sex Positive Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Swearing, i just needed to get this out of my system
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecentMud/pseuds/DecentMud
Summary: For some ungodly reason, Alastor decides to keep Angel safe and sound - meaning no sex, prostitution and certainly no drugs. Of course, this wild idea is met with more than a little resistance. But... no one ever cared if Angel was safe. And sometimes, all he would like is a hug. Sex sure is nice, but he is more than willing to explore the possibilities.The trouble is, it doesn't seem like Alastor is offering anything specific. Keeping things strange and vague is not helping, especially when a new guest catches Alastor's attention.(the description was updated)
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

The night was rather silent. The hotel was located in the 'good neighbourhood', which, in hell's terms meant there were fewer prostitutes and nightclubs around. This part of the pentagram was more into gluttony, with bars and restaurants scattered all across the triangle.

  
Angel shouldn't have gone out, especially with increased supervision after the news fiasco, but he has been good for at least a week and he couldn't cope anymore. He was an addict, goddammit, and not a fucking saint. What the hell was Charlie even thinking with this whole damn idea?

  
With sticky mouth and pocket full of phencyclidine, white and perfectly clear, as most drugs in hell were. For a place of eternal damnation, hell had an awful lot of nice things, like no threat of overdose and cheap drugs.  
While still on Earth, he would usually shot up the drug, for a quick kick and instant relief, but down here he quite enjoyed the combination of booze and dust. He learned to enjoy the slow burn. When it came to drugs, at least. He wondered if Charlie would consider it a redeeming quality of sorts.

  
The bar was not manned, not in the middle of the night and he leaned across the counter to fish out a bottle of whiskey without hesitation. This was probably the best of Alastor’s ideas.  
No hangovers were another perk of living in hell. Why was it called hell again?

  
He probably shouldn't mix alcohol with drugs in plain sight at the bar, but who was there to see him? Charlie must have already gone to bed with her girl toy, who had eyes only for her, if Husky was not at the bar he must have passed out already, maybe in his bed, or maybe somewhere else. Alastor... he doubted Radio Demon would even care.

  
And right on cue, he was standing behind him, tutting all of the things, in his creepy voice.

  
“Drinking and doing drugs?” He cast a quick glance at Angel’s hand frozen above the glass full of whiskey, holding a bag of white dust. Spider felt his fur was still a little bit wet and sticky around his mouth, but he had no time to clean himself up after a quick round in the back alley. “And whoring yourself as well? Ha! Charlie will be so disappointed. I should wake her right away!” He announced in his best voice and turned around.

  
Angel caught the sleeve of his shirt before he could leave and Alastor suddenly froze in place, very, very still. He had enough wit to let go as soon as possible, but the demon was already turning back to face him. Painfully slowly as well, so Angel had all the time in the world to think about his poor choices.

  
He wasn’t necessarily afraid of Alastor the first time they met, not in a way Charlie and Vaggie seemed to, but over past week his attitude shifter from unaffected to slightly cautious. He never was at the receiving end of Alastor wrath but the tidbits he saw here and there made him wonder.

  
“Did you just grab me?” the radio host voice was dropped, which made him a tad more scary than usual. It was counter-intuitive, but clear-cutting voice was scarier than radio disruptions.

  
Alastor was staring at him with wide eyes, teeth bared and Angel realized he must have really hated being touched. He disliked casual touch from strangers as well, but this was a mere grab at his sleeve, not a surprise blowjob.

  
“Sorry, just don't tell her, okay?” he finally replied in a pleading voice. He didn't know how to handle people in this house. In real, outside hell, he would flirt or fuck his way of any situation. Here nobody cared, damn lesbians and... Alastor. Whatever he was.

  
“Why wouldn't I?” The radio voice was back and Angel nearly sighed with relief. ”You just broke almost all of the rules our hopeless host set for you! And I'm helping, for as long as I desire!” he announced, looking at him still.

  
”Because I'm cute and I can suck your dick?” Angel proposed with not much hope and was not surprised to see Alastor expression hadn't changed. ”Or maybe because you want to be good for Charlie? Snitching on your friends is not nice” he proposed.

  
”Ridiculous. What put this idea that I want to be good into your pretty little head?”

  
”Didn't think you considered me pretty. The blowjob offer is still up, by the way.” He placed the bag of drugs back on the counter and picked up the tumbler, filled with whiskey almost to the brim. He left some space for drugs, but it could wait.

  
”I'll pass. Whores are not exactly up my alley if you know what I mean.”

  
Angel was pretty sure he didn't, but while he was phishing out another glass for Alastor he made sure to stick out his ass into the air. It wasn't as impressive as his chest, but it'll have to do.  
He poured another glass without asking, but Radio Demon accepted the drink without further questions.  
”You smell like sex” he informed him.

  
Angel, which was, in retrospect, probably a second stupid thing he did this evening (excluding prostitution and drugs), leaned in and sniffed Alastor.

  
”You smell of death.”

  
”Do you like it?” Radio Demon asked in return.

  
”I've smelled worse” He shrugged, taking a big sip of his warm whiskey. Ice didn't mix well with hell's atmosphere.

  
”I don't doubt it.”

  
”Hey! I'm picky about my clients” he ensured, even though it wasn't always true. Especially back on earth. He could afford to be more picky down here.

  
”You sure are. That's why you sneaked out to pleasure someone in a back alley of a bar for a few bucks. Don't look like that at me me, fella. It's my job to know stuff.”

  
”Do you care about me?” Angel asked because his damn mouth had no filter.

  
”Ha! No. But you are free entertainment.” And without saying anything else he downed his drink and got up.

  
”You won't tell Charlie, though?” he had to ask.

  
”Not this time.”

  
Only after he disappeared in the hall, still wearing his maniacal smile, Angel realized his drugs were gone.

  
”Fuckin fuckity fuck” he swore under his breath, settling down with his bottle. He was not in the mood for more this evening. Not only sneaking seem too risky even for him, especially right now but also Alastor was kind of right - this was not a fun lay. He was getting out of touch and just allowing some random guy to grab him for a quick blowjob... He enjoyed sex, but usually, he preferred to have a bigger part in it. Sucking dick could be fun when the guy wasn't disgusting and he was in the mood.  
None of this was true this night.

Second time he met Alastor in the hall it was not even a week later. It was all Radio Demon's fault anyway that he had to go out again so soon. Everyone seemed to forget that addicts were addicts. There was not a lot he could do to stop unless someone would actually force him to stop. Charlie tried the moral route, which was, frankly, rather funny to use on a demon. The free room was neat though.

  
He tried to be better at sneaking this time, making sure everyone was asleep before he left and finding a client as soon as possible (a vile, sticky creature. Angel would never sleep with him under different circumstances, but he hardly had time to be picky. The client brute-forced him into coming into his mouth and he was eager to wash that taste down with vodka). Somehow, Alastor must have known, since he was already waiting at the bar with two drinks poured.

  
Husk was nowhere to be seen, thanks to all unholy.

  
”Had a fun night?”

  
”Not really” he plopped onto the barstool next to the demon, reaching for the drink. Alastor caught his wrist before he could do so and held out his other hand expectantly.

  
”What?” he whined. ”I need it! I can suck your dick too if you let me keep it.”

  
”The answer to that is still a no. Give me the drugs” he demanded. His hand on Angel's wrist was rather hot.

  
”Fine” Angel threw the bag at him. According to Vaggie, there was no reason to even try to fight with Alastor. The fact that his wrist was not yet broken was probably a small miracle in its own right.

  
Radio Demon caught it with no trouble at all and placed it in one of the pockets of his coat, finally letting go of his wrist. He didn't even hold it that hard.

  
”Do you enjoy torturing me?” At least he had his vodka now, sipping it like a fine liqueur, even though it tasted disgusting, as vodka usually does. But it was still better than memory of disgusting dick, pushing down his throat and cuming there. He was a whore, but there were things, that he liked to agree on beforehand.

  
Cuming in his mouth was on that list, along with foot stuff, and anything kinkier than light spanking and bondage.

  
”Maybe” Alastor answered and extended his glass, to clink it against the Angels' who did it reluctantly.

  
”What are we drinking to?”

  
”Sobriety, of course!”

Next time was the very next night. They had, for the first time in forever, new guest checking in, who commanded the attention of most of the staff for the better part of the day and it seemed it would seep into the night as well. Charlie was terribly excited, drowning poor demon girl (whom he vaguely recognized as one of his female clients. She tipped well, but was so high most of the time he didn't have to do much. He liked her.) in a wave of enthusiastic chattering.

He wondered if Cherry Bomb let the poor girl know about this place. It was hard to believe that any demon would like to get better just for the sake of it.

  
But Charlie seemed excited, Vaggie got as close to happy as she ever did and Alastor was following them around, throwing in his quirky comments. Husk was asked to close the bar for the night, as the first day was not the best for a drink and Nifty... He couldn't figure out what she was doing most of the time, even when she was in sight, so when she was not around he usually forgot she existed.

  
So the night seemed like a perfect moment to sneak out and get a new dose. This time he had a better plan, he’ll just shoot it up in the alley, just to avoid Alastor whatsoever.

  
He couldn't take his drugs away if they were already coursing through his veins.

  
It would have been a genius plan, one of his truly best if the Radio Demon wasn't already waiting for him in the hallway on his way out.

  
”Are you fucking shitting me right now?” he asked as Alastor poured two glasses of fucking red wine into round glasses.

  
”Since you didn't have a cock in your mouth yet I thought you might enjoy something nicer” he announced with wide gin.

  
Angel fucking hated this man.

  
”Yet?” he challenged him, jumping on his stool again, trying to hide his disappointment. He was a failure and his life sucked balls. ”You’re in the mood, finally?” he teased, without much hope. ”You already have drugs to pay me with and I wouldn't really mind putting my mouth on you” he added, leaning towards Alastor with his chest all fluffed up.

  
Surprisingly, this time the demon didn't really jump away, just stared at him with curiosity in his red, mad eyes.

  
”You would fuck anything, right?”

  
This was not a question Angel was really expecting. He settled on the wine, for now, and sipped a little bit, thinking about the answer.

  
The wine was rather nice, not really something he would categorize as cheap booze. With earthy notes and rich aftertaste. He might have been a scum back on Earth but he was an Italian scum.

  
”Mostly” he admitted after a long pause. ”For money.”

  
”Bag of drugs is not worth that much.”

  
Did he just call him a cheap whore? He had to admit, lately, that was an accurate description. How low has he fallen, all for free food and roof over his head. Being safe during the cleansing was an added bonus that was hard to forget.

  
”Not really, no. But it's not like I have a lot of time to book clients if you are guarding me like my fucking jealous boyfriend, I take what I can get” He shrugged.

  
”So, you can live without sex but not without drugs?” the demon asked, toying with his glass.

  
What was his fucking deal, Angel thought to himself. He was tired, sober for fucking four weeks now, and all he wanted to do was get high and pass out.

  
”I'm not getting anything out of sucking off some disgusting guy in the back alley, so I would say yes, I want drugs, not sex. I thought that was pretty clear by the escaping to buy drugs part.”

  
”And to make a cheap whore out of yourself.”

  
”What the fuck do you want? For me to charge more?” He was starting to hate this conversation. ”Could you just give me my drugs back and go back to being creepy around Charlie? She seems to enjoy it.”

  
”It's no fun when she enjoys it” creepy radio voice was gone once again. The non-radio one was creepy in its own way but Angel was quickly learning to deal with it.

  
He swore at this all-powerful, terrifying being more than once and all Alastor did was being creepy and weird in return. Also withholding his drugs seemed like a popular punishment, but he didn't think it really was. Whatever Rado Demon wanted from him was not straightforward.

  
Or maybe he was just killing boredom by torturing him. Both possible and both annoying as fuck.

  
”So you pick on me because it annoys me?”

  
”Also, it's fun to see you voluntarily get back to something you already overcame and suffering in progress.”

  
”What the hell does it even mean?” Angel wasn't sure he understood. Whatever was happening in that creepy brain, he wasn't really following. It also seemed there was zero chance he would get drugs today, so he settled on his stool, leaning against the counter.

  
”You have zero withdrawal symptoms and after four weeks your addiction is not in your body, it's in your head. You are clean as an orphan child tear, and yet you are willing to have sex, which you consider unpleasant to get back to the addiction. Which is dumb, but entertaining” he explained in his usual voice and Angel let his head fall down to the countertop,

  
”Were you a fucking therapist? I would imagine they end up in hell” he murmured from between his arms.

  
”Ha! No, I was a serial killer, and a hella good radio host.”

  
Angel should have expected that.

  
”That's great for you” he commented, still defeated.

  
”So, if you don't need drugs, I would assume you do it for the sex. Why would you choose crappy sex if that's the reason?”

  
Stupid Radio Demon, asking his stupid question as this was some fucking radio show talking about addictions. He was an addict, he could be addicted to more than one thing. But he didn't ask for therapy and even after years of being dead he was not ready to work through his issues like a fucking millennial.

  
”What, are you offering better?”

  
A bit of silence followed.

  
”You didn't answer my question” he finally responded and Angel couldn't help but notice that it wasn't a no. Alastor did make his gaydar go wild, but he refused so many times he accepted he was wrong. And yet, not a no.

  
”You're not my mother or my boss.” The conversation was done. There were no drugs in sight, he was tired, Charlie will drag him out of bed early tomorrow because of the new guest. It was time to sleep.

  
”Good night, creep” he bid his farewell, disappearing into the hall.

  
”Good night, whore.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, thank you all for such a warm welcome into the fandom! <3 I really appreciate that!

Angel wasn’t in the mood to sneak out for the next few days. The hotel has been so much more entertaining, with an actual guest in it and Alastor was acting even weirder than ever before. Anytime Angel was casually flirting with someone, Radio Demon somehow ended up hovering over his shoulder with a maniacal smile on his face. He never said anything, but he was constantly lurking around.

It got even weirder as time went on. Angel was casually sitting with Charlie in the hotel’s lobby, having a lively banter about alcohol and how she should drink it more.  
“Angel, I do enjoy a glass of wine in a nice company, but I’m not doing body shots with you!” she responded to his suggestion, half scandalized, half-amused, laughing.

“But Charlie, if you want to experience the truest form of human nature, this is the way to do it!” he didn’t even try to sound convincing, there was no way she would do it, but the idea was entertaining.

As they laughed, Angel didn’t even hear someone approaching him, so he all but jumped when gloved hands clamped on his shoulders.

“Alastor, I thought you were out!” Charlie exclaimed and that was the thing that stopped Angel from turning and punching the person. He liked body contact, but not this way. And lots of people in the past assumed they were allowed to touch him without consent just because he was a whore. He had a habit of informing them, they were very, painfully wrong.

“I have just returned. It’s touching you know my schedule!”

More like cautious, Angel thought but kept the comment to himself. Hands were still on his shoulders, gentle and non-threatening and it was weirding him out a lot.  
“I try my best” she just smiled politely and Angel knew, she thought the same thing. “Care to join us for a drink?”

“Not today. I’m going to retire to my room.” One of his hands brushed Angel’s neck gently when he removed them as he retreated to his room and Charlie just went back to their conversation as if nothing had happened.

But Angel couldn’t focus anymore. He was sure the guy hated casual touch, and yet, Alastor just touched him for no apparent reason. Granted, he saw him touch people, but there was always some purpose to it. Was he just trying to startle him? There were better ways to do it than place hands on his shoulders... It would be annoying if he wasn't so attracted to him. It should be annoying. But he was his usual type - tall, lanky, slightly scary and deadly powerful. He could easily imagine being pinned to the wall by him, but this wasn’t what was happening, of course. Alastor was not interested in him in that capacity, that Angel knew for a fact.

After that, it started happening more. Alastor would brush his hand while passing him in the hallway, stand a little too close to be casual, touch his hand or arm when he was addressing him. All of the small things that Angel would not bat an eye if Charlie did, but Alastor was certainly not a touchy-feely princess.

Angel never said anything. Apparently, this meant he encouraged this behavior (but he didn't really believe that his disapproval would stop this particular demon), and Alastor started doing it even more. It was nothing major, he shouldn’t even notice it, but he did. A lot. And not only him, it seemed.

It started earning them some strange looks. Vaggie was glaring at Alastor as she was trying to warn him to stay the fuck away, but Charlie seemed quite content with this development, whatever she thought it was.

On the third day, Alastor fucking grabbed his hand in an empty hallway when Angel was on his way to the kitchen to grab some evening snacks for the hotel's movie night, just to ask for a cup of tea. In his normal voice, without any radio static.

This was probably the creepiest thing a guy ever did to him.

And yet he squeezed the warm hand back and promised him a cup.

When he returned, Alastor was sitting on his spot on the sofa in the back, most fluffy and comfy in the room, the one, which Angel always claimed for himself. This couldn’t have been a coincidence. What Alastor meant by it, Angel was unsure, but he sat down next to him, refusing to be intimidated, handing him the cup.  
Alastor smiled back at him, but that meant nothing. He was always fucking smiling.

Whatever game Radio Demon was playing, Angel Dust was never one to shy away from a challenge.

He didn't expect the arm that casually sneaked behind his back. Everyone’s attention was focused on the screen, currently playing iconic ‘The Room’, written and directed by legendary Tommy Wiseau. If demons loved something it was bad cinema. Or maybe it was a way of torturing them all. Anyway, it was on public television at least once a month and it never failed to bring them in front of the screen.

He sneaked a glance at the demon, currently touching his arm very lightly. It felt as the touch was burning him through the fabric in a strangely pleasant way. Alastor’s eyes were fixated on the screen in this very clear way which meant he was just pretending to be watching.

This was starting to get annoying. He understood both sex and horror, so Alastor pinning him o the wall and fucking him into the next month would be perfectly okay. But nobody ever tried to fucking cuddle him on the couch while watching a movie.

But yes, a challenge. He couldn't back down now, so he snuggled closer, put his head on Alastor's shoulder and tried to focus on the movie even though at this point he knew it by heart. It wasn’t good anyway, even some porn movies had better plots than this. He starred in porn movies with a better plot than this.  
His last blowjob had a better plot than this.

Angel lost his train of thought when Alastor’s hand started stroking his arm lightly. He sneaked a glance at the demon, but he was still looking at the screen, casually sipping from his cup.

Then, he all but hugged him, squeezing him tighter to his chest.

Angel almost spilled a glass of wine he was still holding.

He managed to get comfortable in few minutes, with movie being boring and predictable, and Alastor so fucking warm. Radio Demon didn’t even protest when one of Angel's many hands landed on his thigh. At some point, Angel must have managed to fall asleep as his memories of the evening were blurry.

So maybe just in his imagination Alastor sniffed his head and put his chin on top of it for a few minutes before sitting up again.

Movie ended way too quickly and since that night Alastor was acting like his usual self, excluding all of the casual touching. Angel was left wondering what the fuck. Any chance of solving that mystery was cut short by the universe playing a practical joke on him - they got a new guest. When everybody thought it was impossible, the guy arrived at their doorstep, carrying one black suitcase and wearing scandalously tight leather pants.

Angel would know, he was the master of scandalous clothing.

The stranger was tall, sexy as fuck, and his voice was like warm molasses, thick and sweet. Not Angel’s type, but he could see the appeal. 

Kadin, as the stranger introduced himself, was a serial killer while back on Earth, and both Alastor and Charlie flocked him in seconds, trying to make his stay as pleasant as possible. Alastor was smiling at him wildly, so much, that his jaw must have hurt and Charlie was more charming than usual. It was a sickening spectacle to watch.

This didn't leave Alastor much time to harass Angel, and while he knew he should be hella happy for getting rid of the demon, he was just whiny and in a bad mood. 

You didn't want him to follow you around, he reminded himself time and time again, but after seeing Alastor guiding the new guy with a gentle hand on the small of his back he wasn't so sure anymore.

During dinner, Alastor was nowhere to be seen. After few more minutes of watching everybody metaphorically suck Kadin’s dick, Angel decided to retreat to his room.  
He wasn't feeling sick, but he was feeling bad. The first week of withdrawal symptoms would have killed him if he could die again, but no, he just had to endure neverending torture and dry heaving even when there was nothing left in his stomach to pass. Fever, sweat, and pain was all he felt for five days, and on the other side of this torture, there was Charlie, patiently waiting for with mint tea and a kind word.

He couldn't bring himself to be mean to her on purpose since then. But right now he just needed a break from all of it. He well knew that getting back on and then off on drugs will be painful and terrible, but he just needed a break, a moment of happiness. Drugs were good for that, most of the time.

Surprisingly, there was no one waiting to stop him this time in the hallway. A small miracle.

He walked back through the main entrance, all of the care in the world lifted from his shoulders by the sweet release of narcotics in his veins. He tried hard to forget the incident in the alley and the high was mostly helping. It was numbing the pain, at the very least and making him forget things, which was so nice. He hated insides of his head so much.

He was feeling lightheaded and his future, for once, looked bright. He missed feeling happy.

It couldn't last long, none of the happiness in his life ever did. Alastor was sitting by the bar, with the worst of his creepy smiles plastered across his face. 

“I see you've been out and about, slut.” The insults were back. Things like that never hurt Angel, he was proud of the work he did. But somehow, now, that stung.

“You're too late, beat it“ he waved him off, walking past. He needed to get to his room, more drugs were awaiting, weighting his pocket down with pleasant promise.

Alastor's hand closed firmly around his wrist, making him stop. The demon was not joking, Angel already felt a bruise forming underneath the grip.

“Sit“ he not-really-asked, dragging him towards the barstool. There was no alcohol this time.

It felt like he royally fucked up, once again in his life. Like he was about to get scolded by his father for something that wasn't his fault. Like he was a failure. He already knew he was.

He tried to, but it hurt too much. There was a high chance his underwear was stained with blood. That was a really rough ride.

“I think I'm going to stand. Scream at me all you want, tell Charlie for all I care, just let me go“ he muttered, through the wave of lightheadedness.

“Do you think you can do whatever you want?“

“I'm dead, who's going to stop me?“ He shrugged with two pairs of shoulders.

Alastor shook his head, smile still firmly in place, best of his radio voice back on. Angel didn't even notice he lost it during the talk. He was getting used to the causal Radio Demon. That was stupid of him.

“Homelessness and disease!“ he announced happily. “Alternatively, princess Charlie“

There was a smear of truth to that, but right now he was too drugged to care. That was the future's Angel's problem.

“Sure thing, buddy“ he replied, trying to leave again, but Alastor's hand was still firmly holding him in place. “What do you want?“

“Why did you go today?“ Alastor's smile suddenly faded to something less horrifying and his voice was low and normal. “The one day I had to be somewhere else?“

Damn the drugs, Angel thought, as his mouth responded on its own.

“You were flirting with the new guy“ he mumbled. “I thought you liked me.“

He wanted to murder himself. Like literally, double hell would be better than this.

“And that made you go and allow some stranger to nearly tear you apart?“

You’re tearing me apart, Lisa, Angel’s brain produced.

“That made me go and get drugs. The sex was not part of the plan“ he tried to sound nonchalant, but that was bloody painful. Both the sex and the fact that Alastor was smelling this on him.

“Stupid spider.“ Not a slut or a whore, Angel noticed. Radio Demon let go of his wrist, briefly, to spin him around and hug his back to his chest. He followed the movement until Alastor's chin was propped upon his shoulder and his voice was seeping into his ear, his arms firmly hugging Angel around the waist.

He relaxed into the hug, even if Alastor possibly didn't mean it like that. He was sad, high and needed attention, not a rape. 

“Th's nice“ he murmured.

“Mhm“ responded demon. Apparently any serious interaction with Alastor was easier if he couldn't see his face. “You smell like someone else. I don't like it.“

“I'm not a fan myself“ Angel confessed, unsure if Alastor meant he was not smelling of himself or him. Both options seemed acceptable. He squirmed slightly, trying to find a position that caused him the least pain.

“Does it hurt?“

“I’ve had worse.“ He shrugged again. He wasn't going to make a scene out of it. Demon bodies healed ridiculously fast, he will be good as new in the morning.

He let his hands just hang loosely on his sides, unsure how Alastor will react right now to any attempt of reciprocating the affection, or whatever he meant by this.

“You will have much worse if you ever do it again“ Alastor informed him, thankfully still in his normal voice He was way too close to his ear to start screaming now.

“Are you going to spank me?“ his dick got rather curious at this thought, even as his ass still felt as it was being ripped apart. His libido not always followed reason. 

“Not really what I had in mind, pervert“ he answered, but didn't sound particularly bothered. Radio Demon seemed to be getting used to his stupid, crass humor. Angel did not expect this to ever happen. 

Gaining some confidence, he wrapped his lower hands around Alastor's arms and allowed his head to rest more firmly next to his. Alastor didn't seem to mind.

“You are going to be so sick tomorrow“ he announced, without a real bite to his voice. “Just don't show yourself to anyone and it should be fine.”

“Weren't your whole deal being here to watch us fail?“ Angel asked, but there was no answer to that. “Do you hug the rest of the sinners as well to make them better?“  
He hoped for a no.

“Not really. Hand me the drugs.“

“No“ Angel whined, but he threw the bag on the counter. All of this hugging was making him weak. “Do you like the new guy?“ he somehow got back on the embarrassing topic, but he just had to know where they stood.

If Alastor just asked him to suck his dick, he would. With pleasure, on his knees, he would allow him to fuck his throat to his heart's content. But all demon did was touch him, hug him and not allow him to get in trouble. Nobody ever did that to him, and certainly not a guy. 

“I don't. It was entertaining to watch.“

“You touched his back. Lower back“ he whined, against all reason.“You don't do that to me.“

“You got high because I touched someone's back?“ His voice was incredulous at least.

“I got high because I’m an addict. And you just disappeared.“ Angel wasn’t making much sense even to his own ears.

“I had some business to attend to. Didn't know you cared. And I don't like him more” he sighed into his ear, making Angel’s fur stand on ends. “I was just having fun.”

”What are you having with me?” He wanted to turn around and watch his face, but he had a feeling that would end the discussion, so he stood very still.

Angel fucked, got fucked and very rarely had friends. Having a boyfriend while he was alive was not really possible, and down here, he made sex his job. Not exactly easy to find someone to love you this way. He was content with that, he had girlfriends to keep him company. But Alastor was something else. He wasn't sure what.

”What answer do you want from me?” Radio Demon asked and this wasn't the answer he hoped for. When he pulled back, Alastor allowed him to go this time, hiding the bag of drugs into his pocket.

”None. Good night.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a self-indulgent chapter, hope you will enjoy it as well! <3

The next day was an absolute shitshow. It was not as bad as going clean after years of abuse, but it was hardly pleasant. Vomiting and sweating was never fun, even less so with fur all over his body. Cleaning it was an impossible task, and drying it was even worse. Showers were a nightmare, and he used to love a good bath while he was still a human.

He was in the middle of a particularly violent fit of shivering when someone knocked on his door. Before he gathered enough brainpower to sound like he was not fucking dying, the voice came from the hallway.

“It is I, Alastor!“ announcement was made. “Alone!“ he added.

“C-come in“ he stuttered through the words. He was so fucking cold, even under a mountain of blankets.

Demon flashed him a mad smile as he was coming in and closed the door behind him with a careful click. 

“What do you want?“ Angel was not in a mood for taking, or breathing or being alive. Or dead, for that matter. He sunk back into his blanket mountain with a groan.

Alastor visibly hesitated but apparently, he didn't have enough compassion to back down. Crazy bastard, Angel thought, but he said nothing as he watched him make his way to the edge of the bed and sit there carefully.

“I see you are dead as a doornail!” he announced cheerily. Only because it was true Angel didn't murder him there and then. Or possibly because he would die trying.

”You look pretty too” he mumbled. 

”It's your fault, no use sulking about it, my silly little spider!”

He let the insult pass but didn't fail to notice the way Alastor addressed him. Curious. 

”Oh, go away, you creep.” If he had any choice in that matter he wouldn't let Alastor see him like this, fur drenched in sweat, the worst, thick kind, which tended to happen when he was laying off drugs. But Radio Demon didn't seem phased at all by seeing Angel’s tired, imperfect, makeup-less face.

”I was sent by Charlie. Well, Vaggie was sent by Charlie but I managed to convince her I'll do a marvelous job! Princess wants you to eat something since you are staying in here for an awfully long time!” His stupid voice was way too loud. And Angel felt nauseous again at the mention of food, so he pushed the covers away and trotted to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him violently.

Alastor must have heard him dry heaving through the door. He was quite unsure why he was still there when he got out.  
”Better?”

”No, fuck off already” he mumbled, falling back down on the bed. Radio Demon didn't move an inch from the place he had chosen for himself.

He jumped up, feeling a hand on his shoulder, patting gently.

”There, there” the voice was awfully loud and comment was condescending, but the pat was nice. Angel was slowly coming to the realization that he might not only be addicted to drugs but human contact as well. That was somehow even worse.

”Ugh, fine, stay if you want. At least turn the tv on. Silently” he warned, throwing the remote at him and crawling back under the covers.

With an obsessive look on his face, Alastor started switching between channels, finally settling for some annoying reality tv show about demons having to decide whether they want to fuck or kill another contestant on the show. They proceeded to do so, in the most compelling way possible. If they failed to entertain it would be them on the line next week.

It was both annoying and weirdly fun. Angel preferred the fuck choice, as hey, daytime tv porn, but Alastor started rooting for a brutal murder from the get-go. It turned out to be a marathon of last year’s season, so somehow this visit turned into them laying next to each other on the bed and throwing sniping comments about particularly bad strategic moves, non-exciting deaths, and stupid sex positions. Alastor didn't have much to add on that topic and looked away whenever Angel made a comment, causing him to stop halfway through the season.

There were few breaks for vomiting, debauchery was not agreeing with his stomach when it was too graphic but other than that it was a surprisingly pleasant afternoon and Angel didn't even notice when it turned into evening and his symptoms subsided.

”Dinner?” Alastor proposed.

”Why not. Shower first though” Angel sniffed himself and frowned. ”I smell terrible.”

”You smell sick. I don't mind” Alastor informed him, taking up more space on the bed once Angel trotter toward the bedroom. ”Don't take too long, I could eat a horse!” he announced, loudly.

”Suck a dick!” Angel shouted from behind the closed door.

Showers proved problematic to him on multiple levels in his demon form. The first issue was he was entirely covered in fur, with a very small exception of his dick (thanks gods) and soaking it made it nearly impossible to dry off in a reasonable time. The second issue was, his chest fur needed intense styling to reach it's full fluff potential and doing it was a huge pain in the arse.

The third issue was, he soaked up smells like crazy. Being around anything deep-fried made him smell of it for the next century. Also, bloodstains on white fur - super hard to clean.

He was the prettiest slut in the universe, but maintaining that image was painful and it took ages to make it happen.

When he exited the shower he was all in his lanky glory - all fluff was lying flat, his chest no longer full and enticing, but a regular, male chest. Usually, he wouldn't let anyone see him in a state of disarray such as this, but Alastor just watched him detoxify. This couldn't be much worse. Even though, he still felt a bit insecure when he entered the room.

Radio Demon was still lying comfortably on his bed, on his side, with his cheek pressed against Angel's pillow, watching something stupid on tv and he barely lifted his eyes from the screen when Angel walked past the bed, wrapped only in a towel, to get some clothes.

Once he was properly dressed, of course, why would Alastor want to see him almost naked, Angel though, with despise, Alastor started watching him carefully. Angel felt a flush creeping on his cheeks beneath the fur. What was this creep staring at?

”What are you looking at, creep?” he voiced the sentiment.

”Your chest. It's flat” Alastor noticed, with his creepy grin in place.

”Oh, fuck off” he reacted on instinct, folding one pair of arms over it protectively. “It's not like all I want to do after a good day of being fucking sick out of my mind is fluffing it up to its perfect glory.”

Alastor didn't respond for a better part of five minutes and Angel decided the conversation was over, returning to his closet. He must have imagined he heads the comment.

”I like it like this.”

It couldn’t have been real. He didn't pick up the conversation, allowing it to die.

Radio Demon proposed him dinner, although Angel was not sure what he meant. So when he announced he was ready, he felt a bit uneasy as Alastor led the way through the hotel. The corridors were rather deserted, it was way after regular dinner time for residents, Angel took his sweet time getting ready. Maybe because he didn’t want anyone to see him looking less than perfect, even though Charlie and Vaggie saw him through worse. But new residents, especially that annoying demon, who dared to get Alastor's attention... He should know, that Angel is a force to be reckoned with, at least when it came to sucking dick and looking pretty. But he was pretty good at turf wars as well, if he could say so himself.

He was led to the kitchen, where Nifty was sitting by the table, with nothing at the burners, scribbling something in a small notepad of hers, that she usually had somewhere on hand.

”Mister Alastor!” she beamed at him. ”And miss Angel” she smiled less brightly, but she did. That was something, he supposed. 

She insisted on calling him with female pronounce, even though after the first, honest mistake, she was made aware multiple times he was indeed a male. Angel didn't care, he got called much worse, multiple times, both during sex and in the streets. Being treated as a lady also came with perks, as she insisted on moving his chair every time he was sitting down at the table, and a little pampering was always a nice thing in his books.

”You missed the dinner, should I get something ready?” she was already moving, reminding Angel of a small flea (which were a thing in hell, thank you very much, and after Angel caught them once, he never wanted to live through the experience ever again. It was the worst week of his life and he almost resorted to biting into his fur, as he saw dogs do multiple times. Almost, but how close of a call that was to this day was filling him with resentment).

”No, you can be excused” Alastor announced and Nifty cocked her head, looking at him curiously. ”I'm in a bit of a cooking mood myself.” Came the explanation.

”Cooking for your date, both impressive and risky. I'll leave you alone, then.” She snatched her notebook right from under Angel's wandering hand and was gone in seconds.

Angel had to notice that Alastor didn't refuse the date part. But Radio Demon never seemed to pay attention to what people thought of him. Maybe he just didn't care enough to explain the true nature of their dinner.

”So, I was thinking paella. Gumbo would take ages to make, and you have already spent a millennium under the shower, so I'm afraid we are running out of time in the hell already!” he joked, in his announcer voice, smiling broadly. 

”Paella is fine” Angel confirmed, smiling at him. Somehow, he enjoyed this crazy wildness. ”Unless we could go for some pasta?” he proposed. Italian was always his comfort food. 

”I'm not the greatest Italian cook, but if you want to help I can't see why not” he cocked his head and Angel was already moving, grabbing an apron Nifty usually used. It was a pretty regular one, with red and white stripes, and once he wrapped it around himself Alstor looked at him strangely.

”You look good in red” he finally commented and this time Angel was sure, he heard it and his brain didn’t imagine it as a result of too many drugs and too little sleep.

”Thanks, you too” he smiled at him. It must have been quite easy to notice that he was flirting, but miraculously, Alastor didn't run away or deflect, but smiled right back, and not with the crazy smile, with the normal one.

Angel considered dropping to his knees right there and then, but he didn't expect Alastor would appreciate it. Instead, he just checked the fridge for ingredients. There wasn’t much, but more than enough. Charlie was doing a much better job now with keeping the place stocked with food. Nifty was a good cook, provided with good ingredients she could create a masterpiece and the princess was clearly enjoying that fact. Especially the part, where Vaggie was always very happy and in an especially good mood after meals. It appeared that food was most certainly a way to this particular demon heart, and possibly to some other places as well.

Like bras and panties.

Fridge looked like they were just waiting for the next food delivery, but who was known for creating a pasta sauce out of nothing if not Italians and Angel was ready to do his momma proud. 

”How do you feel about carbonara?” he proposed, and Alastor made non-committal noise in response, so it was decided.

It felt like a fucking proper date. First, they cooked, together. Alastor turned out to be amazing with knives, which shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. Angel never in his life seen onion so perfectly chopped and once he complimented demon on it, Alastor fricking preened under the attention. Madness.

Then they ate, sitting across the table from each other, like in a Disney movie and Angel actually felt like a princess when Alastor declared, it was the best pasta he ever ate. Insanity. He even brought out a bottle of amazing red wine, which they toasted with and later they just stayed at the table, talking and sipping. They were neither progressing into sex nor into getting sloshed out of their minds. 

Angel never did that with a guy he liked before, not even when he was still alive and he considered dating someone. Briefly, before his father found about his 'tendencies' and have beaten the crap out of him. After that, Angel resorted to occasional, anonymous sex, as far from home, as possible. He even got himself a girlfriend, sweet little thing, who worried that she was not interested in her enough. Obviously, he wasn't, she didn't have a dick. But she was nice, and smelled pretty and cuddled nicely while watching the movies.

Alastor was sort of like that girl, except Angel wanted to fuck Alastor. So maybe he was that girl to him, ho wondered. But no one forced Radio Demon into hanging out with him, so perhaps that was something entirely new to Angel. 

The bottle was soon empty and Angel, once again, felt absolutely exhausted. It was a damn long day. He started slumping against the table and getting lost in the conversation, and he probably should head to bed, but he found that he didn't want this night to end. It was so nice, just sitting here.

”We should get you to bed” Alastor announced, waking him up a bit. He straightened up in his chair, trying to look wide away.

”No need, we could maybe get another bottle of wine?” he countered, but the fact, that he yawned in the middle of the word made Alastor roll his eyes and stand up.

”I think you had enough intoxication for now. Let me walk you back.” He offered him an arm, like he was some nineteenth-century lady, and maybe just out of shock Angel stopped protesting and slipped one of his underneath it. Or maybe because he fucking wanted to touch Alastor, after the greatest date he was ever on.

”Goddammit you're clingy” demon commented and Angel started to pull back, even though there was no actual spite in his voice. But Alastor just held him close, so he didn't dare to comment. They were already almost at the door of Angel's room and he wanted to keep hugging Alastor, who smelled nice and had the softest clothes and maybe Angel was just a little drunk.

They stood in front of the door for a few seconds, neither of them pulling away, which was awkward, but nice. Alastor could huff all he wanted, but apparently, he wanted to keep him close to his side, at least, and he could be fine with this if he also spent half of his free time masturbating. Dick would be better, but he was going to take what he can get.

”I should...” Radio Demon started.

”Do you want to stay and watch tv?” Angel interrupted him.

Alastor shot him a glance from the side, rather hard to look him into the eye, as he was cuddling his arm and intentionally avoiding his eyes. He thought, for a brief moment, that maybe demon had just enough of his company and will say no, but he just reached for the doorknob and announced cheerfully.

”Why not, my arachnid friend, why in the hell not!”


End file.
